


Seven Reasons why.

by Gezelligheid



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Brotzly Week, M/M, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-11-13 11:25:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11184117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gezelligheid/pseuds/Gezelligheid
Summary: Much belated Brotzly week prompts.





	1. First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They first time they said, "I love you".

 

* * *

In the movies and telly, it usually happens in the heat of the moment. Before a fight or daring escape.

It happens during a do-or-die moment, in the we-might-die-so-I-need-to-tell-you-something-important scenarios.

 It happens when guns are going off in the distance, with meaningful pauses and intense staring into each other's eyes.

With the exception of maybe that last detail, real life turns out to be nothing like the telly. 

* * *

With the two of them it happens between cases, when things are (relatively) peaceful and easygoing, at a moment when they are perhaps at their most comfortable. 

Todd's fixing something for dinner, something light with roasted veggies and grilled chicken, due to his insistence that they eat something healthy for a change and not more pizza, "Or that other junk you usually consume. Seriously, how do you stay so thin? You've got the metabolism of a fucking gerbil." 

It's so... oddly domestic. 

He doesn't really remember what the're talking about, some show perhaps, they're laughing and banter is easy and flowing, Dirk feels warm and content.

Which by now should be a warning that things are about to fall to shit. 

Todd turns back to the skillet, but he's still smiling at something Dirk just said, even from this angle the dimples are visible. Sticky sweet warmth wraps around the lull in the conversation, around Dirk's insides.

Then, with a pause in to conversation less than a second long, the stupid words roll from Dirk's stupid mouth. 

"...I love you." 

 

Todd freezes. Spatula in midair.

 

_...shitshitshitshitshitshit...!!!_

 

 

"Uh... I mean... that's... er...."

His brain scrambles for damage control, grasping for something... anything... like a passenger of the Titanic grabbing floating objects in the vain hope of remaining buoyant. 

The silence sours.

Todd slowly, very slowly, puts the spatula down on the counter, his back remaining towards Dirk. Otherwise he remains unmoving, silent as stone. And Dirk can practically hear his friend's brain short-circuiting.

"I didn't...what I mean...I misspoke, that's..."

 

He can almost hear the _crack_ of his life starting to crumble all around him. All because of three little words.

This is it. This is the end. He's ruined the best thing that's ever happened to him.

He finally stops trying to explain himself, halts the avalanche of dumb flowing from his mouth, and squeezes his eyes shut. As if keeping his surroundings out can make this reality cease to be. And the one where he still hasn't stepped over the line is still true.

And Todd is still silent. 

There's no way to redeem this. Certainly Todd will probably forgive him, act like nothing happened, they will go about their lives firmly entrenched in denial, but the memory will always be there, hanging in the air, an unspoken presence, and this comfortable dynamic they've established will be gone forever. He should've been more careful, he knows the damage that knowledge can do, the power words have, that some secrets are best kept in the corner of your heart in a box under lock and key. 

Pressure wells up in his chest, about to give birth to a sob. He manages to swallow it down.

"I'm so sorry." He whispers. 

"Dirk..." Todd begins, then stops. 

"I don't know why..." Once they've started the words pour out again, like a breach in a dam. "I wasn't thinking. When am I _ever_ thinking? Never! That's when! I'm a bloody idiot!"

"Wait..."

" Stupid _stupid_ Dirk!! Always running off your mouth!" 

"Stop. Just stop." 

He finally musters enough courage to open his eyes. Todd watches him out of the corner of his eye, but can't seem to face him yet, taking a deep breath and running his fingers through his hair. 

"Okay... I just.." He sighs. Then turns off the stove. 

"You didn't do anything wrong...okay?" He takes another breath. "You just caught me off guard."

"Then...then why can't you look at me?"

Todd winces.  

"I thought so."

Dirk heaves a miserable sigh and flops down dejectedly onto the couch so he doesn't have to look at his friend not-looking at him. "You don't have to try to make me feel better. I know I ruined everything... again."

Todd makes a sound that's almost the beginning of a word, but Dirk continues. 

"And, if this friendship meant half as much to you as it does...did... to me, then I'm... I can't even tell you how sorry I am." 

After a brief pause, Todd repeats, " _'Did'?_  " his tone is incredulous. 

" Yes. I'm not that much of an idiot that I can't see... we can try, but..." A rather inconvenient lump forms in his throat. "When your friend says they love you... but you don't feel the same..."

 

"That's not it at all!"

 

It's practically shouted.

 

Dirk sits up and realizes that Todd has stepped out of the kitchen and is less than a foot away, looking as serious and open as Dirk's ever seen him, finally making eye contact.

"You've got it all wrong." He says softly, but firmly.  

All Dirk can do is blink. 

 Todd sighs, drops his gaze down to his shoes, flexing his fingers. 

"It's not that I... you surprised me. I'm not good at this kind of thing. I've never..." He makes a vaguely frustrated sound and rubs his eyes with one hand. 

Dirk's brain finally kicks into gear. "So... what are you saying, exactly?" 

Todd gives him a soft look, a resigned smile.

"I'm saying I'm an emotionally stunted idiot... and I love you too."  

 

"..." 

His heart takes off in his chest like a bird. 

 

Todd continues speaking. "I guess I just... I don't know..." He gives a half-hearted shrug. 

All Dirk can do is look up at him with a wide-eyed wondering expression, like some romance novel heroine. On the inside, his mind is running in hyperactive circles. Todd loves him. He said so himself. He hasn't ruined anything.

 

Todd loves him.

 

Todd _loves_ him! 

 

His thoughts zero in on that one detail.

 

  _Todd loves him!!!_

 

"You do?" He asks carefully, wanting to be completely sure beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Todd looks back up. His smile is gentle and warm and exhausted and a million other things besides. 

"Oh yeah." 

Something inside Dirk does handsprings and cartwheels.

He feels like running. Dancing. Dancing while he's running. Singing at the top of his lungs. The laugh lines around Todd's eyes crinkle slightly and Dirk realizes he has a dopey grin on his face. 

 

But a part of him still hangs back, hissing that this is all too good to be true. 

"Why didn't you say anything?" 

Todd looks to the side and chews his lip for a second. "You'll think it's stupid." 

"I doubt that." 

Inhaling slowly, Todd leans forward to place his hands lightly on Dirk's shoulders. "It's nothing but my own usual insecurities that's been keeping me back. I had a feeling... well... let's just say you're not the most subtle person I've known." 

Dirk has enough dignity to give him a vaguely affronted glare, which only serves to make Todd's expression fonder, but tinged with sadness. 

"But... honestly, You deserve the best."

He swallows. "You can do so much better than me." 

 

Dirk's jaw practically drops into his lap. 

Todd might as well suggest Dirk hitchhike to Tokyo. 

"Are you _SERIOUS?!?_ " he bursts out. "You _are_ the best Todd! The best...No! Better than the best life has to offer!"

He takes in the other man's startled expression as he covers the hands on his shoulders with his own.

 

"You're the bravest, most selfless person I've ever met! You just _care_ so much! I've never felt more at home anywhere than wherever you happen to be! You're so... you're just... so... so _you!_ " 

 

Todd's expression does a number of things in a space of five seconds. Joy, disbelief, worry, doubt, finally accepting, then so tenderly loving it's almost too much for the detective to take in, eyes clear and soft. 

His hands move to lightly cup Dirk's face, as if afraid he might vanish into thin air at a moment's notice. Dirk can feel guitar callouses lined along the hinge of his jaw, and sucks in a breath at how unbelievably real it's becoming . Todd tries to say something, but doesn't seem to know where to start. 

 

Dirk finally breaks the silence by musing quietly, "If anything, _you're_ the one who could do so much better." 

Todd looks at him like it's the most insane and idiotic thing Dirk has said in the time they've known each other. Then firmly shakes his head.

 

The next thing Dirk knows, Todd is kissing him. 

 

He's so stunned, it doesn't fully register until Todd pulls away, giving him a smile that defiantly says, "So _there_." 

He has a beautiful smile. 

It all finally takes root in his mind. In his soul. 

He returns the smile, maneuvering their hands so he can slot their fingers together. Feel warm palms, callouses, Todd's glowing gaze confirming that all is right and good with the world. That anything and everything is possible. 

The second time they kiss Dirk's mouth melts like caramel against the juxtaposition of soft lips and harsh stubble and the permanent aftertaste of coffee. 

 

He can definitely learn to like coffee. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa... little more drama than I originally intended, but that's just fine by me.


	2. Jacket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: hints at sexytimes.   
> But you don't mind that, do you?   
> I thought not.

Nothing get's the blood flowing quite like staggering out of your bathroom late at night, fresh from the shower and practically dead on your feet, and suddenly hearing a sound coming from your couch when you were pretty certain you were alone up until now. 

 

Todd, wearing nothing but boxers, instinctively decides he'd rather not be killed in his skivvies, if it comes to that.

 

He grabs the limp _something_ hanging over the back of his sofa, which turns out to be a jacket, and throws it on, while simultaneously stumbling over to the switch. 

Dull light floods the room. Dirk is sitting on the couch, his sleepy face squinting and blinking in a vaguely concerned manner. 

"Wh... _Dirk?_ Again?" 

"Something wrong?" The detective slurs. "I heard you gasp." 

"When the hell did you get here?"

"Not sure." He blearily scratches his chest. "It was all bit...wonky." 

Todd chuffs in frustration. 

 

When is Dirk going to learn not to drop into people's homes unannounced? 

When is Todd going to learn not to be surprised by it? 

 

"You _did_ give me a key." 

"Yes," Todd sighs. "Because if you're gonna drop by anyway, I'd rather it not be through the window." 

Suddenly something gets Dirk's attention. He sits up a little straighter, now almost fully awake.

 

And he's... _staring_ at him. Pretty intently. Looking bewildered. 

 

It finally dawns on Todd what he's wearing. He looks down and sees his own bare chest and stomach through the open zipper of Dirk's green jacket. 

 

"Oh...shit, sorry." He shucks it off as if it's on fire.

He doesn't even know why he feels flustered being caught wearing it.

Might have to do with the fact that Dirk is still staring so hard It almost feels like a physical touch.

"I just... grabbed it and... yeah..." He flung it back at its owner, trying to maintain nonchalance. "Didn't know what it was. Thought you were some stranger and... stuff." 

_Okay, stop talking Brotzman. You're making it weirder._

He scurries to his dresser and pulls out a t-shirt. Meanwhile, Dirk shakes himself out of his minor stupor.

"Oh, No need to explain yourself Todd." He replies a little too brightly. Looking decidedly flustered. "You gave me a Mexican Funeral shirt, the very least I can do is loan you a jacket." 

 "Yeah...okay." 

They stand in less-than-comfortable silence. Todd shifts on his feet. Dirk develops an absorbing fascination with a split in the cushion seam.

"So," Todd says at last. "You wanna crash here for the night?"

"Erm, no thank you." He gives another polite, if stiff, smile. "Think I can manage the stairs to my flat. I feel a second wind coming on." he jumps to his feet and, after hesitating half a second, puts his jacket back on . He can't seem to get out of the room fast enough. 

" 'Kay then. G'night." 

"Good night." 

The door clicks shut, and Todd spends the rest of the evening trying to figure what the hell just happened.

* * *

 

This incident is on Todd's mind several months later.

A lot of things have changed since then. Most importantly their relationship. He's not bothered by Dirk dropping in unannounced anymore.

Because they both live here now.

Now he knows exactly why Dirk was so... well... bewitched, bothered, and bewildered at the sight of Todd wearing one of his jackets, and little else. 

And now, getting that same reaction from the detective is something he does pretty often. And looks forward to.

It's not hard to do. 

That night Dirk returns from the drugstore to the sight of Todd fiddling with his iPod, once again wearing that very same jacket, no shirt underneath, a pair of well-worn jeans slung low on his hips. 

And a perfectly innocent smile on his face.

(at least that's what Todd is aiming for.) 

As predicted, his usually chatty boyfriend is frozen in his tracks and rendered speechless. Eyes wide and cheeks red. 

 

"Hey," he greets casually. "Find everything you were looking for?" 

 

It takes a while for Dirk to respond. When he finally does, it's to let out a sound like, " _Guh_...". He then clears his throat and tries again in a cracked voice. "Y-yes, I think I... everything that needed to be found, I've...Why are you wearing that?" 

"What? This?" He glances down at himself. "Don't you remember?" 

"Remember what?" Dirk's eyes slowly move down the line of exposed skin framed by the teeth of the open zipper, and if possible turns redder. 

"You said I could wear it anytime I wanted to." 

Dir swallows heavily "I did...didn't I." 

Todd sets his iPod on the table and stands, looking down at the jacket with a thoughtful frown. "Although, I'm starting to think maybe it's not my thing." 

Dirk's response is immediate.

"No! I mean... no, it's very,  _very_ much your... thing."

 "But it's too big." Todd tugs at the bottom. "I look like a thirteen year old stealing his older brother's clothes." 

 Dirk's voice is soft, and a full octave lower. "You don't look like that at all." 

(He seems to have forgotten his drugstore purchases still dangling from his hands.) 

"Sooo..." Todd sidles closer, smile effecting the picture of earnestness. "You like it?" 

The purchases find their way to the floor.

 

"Good God... I _love_ it." 

 

It's the last coherent sentence uttered in the apartment for the next forty minutes. 

 


	3. Laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unless otherwise stated, you can assume the chapters are unrelated.

"I have a theory..." 

"Of course you do." 

"All the break-ins centered around the corner of Mr. Holloran's living room where he keeps his goldfish Bubbles, didn't they?" 

Todd wearily rubs his eyes with one hand. "Yeah." 

"What if that's what everybody's trying to steal?" 

Todd thinks maybe he missed something. He's so tired. " _What's_ what everyone's trying to steal?" 

Dirk looks slightly disappointed at him. "The fish, Todd. Weren't you listening?"

He should've learned by now. The more outlandish the theory, the more likely Dirk will come up with it.

Often, the real answer will turn out to be something even weirder.  

"How interesting can a stolen fish be?" 

  
Dirk smiles, clearly relishing the challenge."We're about to find out." 

 It's way too late for this. Or else way too early. They've been in the office for several hours, scrutinizing the board littered with photos, crude sketches penned by Dirk in lieu of photos that can't be obtained, and red string showing each and every possible connection, like a nightmarish spiderweb. Todd, stretched out on the sofa, has had so many espressos another one is liable to stop his heart altogether. 

Dirk is still going strong. Which unfortunately means that, any minute now, he'll shut off completely. Like most small children he only has two setting: Full blast, and off. 

This case has been one of their more tame ones, but it's still perplexing. It involves a woman who claims to have psychic visions whenever she hiccups, a man who's had multiple break-ins despite lacking anything of real value. And... titanium chopsticks?

"But... why the fish?" 

Dirk's smile goes wider. "I have another theory." 

"Here we go." 

The detective continues heedless. " What if the fish swallowed something valuable? Say, a diamond, or some other very very rare gem."

Todd blinks, opens his mouth, shuts it again, squeezes his eyes shut and holds the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.  

"Okay, wait..." 

But Dirk's on a roll, getting more animated as he progresses. "Perhaps, some one stole the mystery item, was pursued by the police, and, in a moment of desperation, ducks into the nearest establishment, which just so happens to be a pet shop. They drop the stone into one of the fish tanks, and make a run for it! They somehow can remember exactly which tank they chose, maybe it had a particular little castle or rock, so they know where to look when they come back ." 

"Time passes, they return to the shop and look for the jewel,only to find that it's gone. They then search the store's computer to see who's bought the fish from that particular tank, find Mr. Holloran's contact information, and decide to break in and..."

"Hold on," Todd interrupts. Dirk pauses mid rant with his mouth still open. "Pet store fish tanks always have several dozen fish each. How does this theoretical person know which one swallowed the jewel?"

Dirk pauses for a second, mouth snapping shut. "Well, maybe they looked up all the customers who bought fish from that particular tank? And Mr. Holloran was just one name among many?"  

He doesn't sound particularly convinced. 

"And beside all that," Todd continues. "How can a goldfish swallow a jewel without killing itself? Those things are pretty damn fragile. I can't even tell you how many Amanda and I accidentally killed when we were kids just by overfeeding." 

Dirk's face scrunches. "Well, maybe the jewel was very...tiny?" 

Todd raises an eyebrow."Yet still valuable enough to be stolen and warrant two break-ins?" 

Dirk is quiet for a moment, clearly a little disappointed, then waves his hand dismissively. "You're right. Forget the jewel thing." 

Todd lets his head lean back against the armrest "Hallelujah." 

 Dirk taps his pen against his lower lip as he regards the board again. "Actually saves us some trouble, in the long run." 

"How d'you figure?"

"I was in a fix wondering how to convince a veterinarian to x-ray Bubbles." 

Todd sits upright."You wanted to x-ray a _goldfish?_ " 

Dirk has enough sense to look sheepish. "Well, yes. It seemed faster than waiting to see if she..." He makes vague circular motions with both hands. "... _passed_ anything unusual. And I certainly wasn't going to cut the poor creature open to look." 

Todd just stares at him for a moment. letting it all process. 

And then... 

 

There has to be a scientific explanation for why, late at night, when you're so tired, some things seem a million times funnier than they normally would.

Probably the same reason other things are far more annoying than usual when you're in the same state of mind. 

Todd doesn't know. All he does know is that Dirk's completely ludicrous theory, the train of his thoughts, and the meek expression he's wearing on his face, are at the moment the most hilarious things he's ever seen. 

He starts laughing. So hard he can hardly breathe, that his stomach hurts, that he falls back on the couch. He can't control it, and he can't hold it back. And he doesn't even want to. 

 

He can't even remember the last time he's laughed like this. 

 

It finally trails off, leaving him breathless. 

And aware of Dirk's slightly awed expression.

"What?" 

Dirk speaks softly, as if afraid of scaring him off. "I don't think I've ever heard you laugh before." 

Todd shakes his head dismissively. "Sure you have. Not often, not this hard, maybe..." 

"Oh, I may have heard the occasional snort, or half-hearted chuckle..." He starts to smile, having found another elusive piece in the puzzle that is Todd's psyche. "But this is the very first time I've heard you honest-to-goodness laugh." 

 

He has a funny way of getting under Todd's skin and making him warm under the collar. "Well, now you have. Think you can die happy?" 

Dirk's smile gets a little wider and a great deal fonder. "I might be a step closer in that direction." 

"Good." he gets to his feet and turns to the board, thinking (hoping) the subject's been dropped. 

It only takes two seconds of silence to be proven wrong. 

"You've got a nice laugh, by the way." 

Todd fights back a sigh. Tries to ignore the returning flush on the back of his neck and the tips of his ears. Instead gives a flat, "Thanks". 

"No, really. It makes _me_ want to laugh." 

Todd feels his mouth twist in a cynical smirk. "I'll bet." 

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Dirk's smile drop."Oh no! I didn't mean it like that..." 

"I know. But I wouldn't be surprised." He grimaces at the memory of his band-mates' amused reactions the first time they heard that high pitched-almost-fucking-giggle-Oh- _Christ_  erupt from his mouth.

That, combined with his small stature, young saucer-eyed baby face, didn't exactly do wonders for the gritty image he was aiming for. 

It wasn't a total loss, though. Some of their fans found it attractive.

Not all, but some. 

Dirk's head cocks to the side. "You really don't like it?" 

"The guys used to make fun of it all the time." Dirk actually looks aghast at this information. Todd only shrugs. "It's no biggie." But he's aware that being still upset after all this time means that it still is a biggie.

"That's so unfair!" One would think they were talking about children working in sweatshops with the level of outrage Dirk gives this statement.  

Todd barely refrains from rolling his eyes, but smiles. "I'm sure there are worse things in life than making fun of somebody's laugh." 

"But now you're afraid to use it. That can't be healthy." 

"I don't particularly blame them. I'd probably make jokes about it too. I've always thought it sounded somewhere between a twelve year old schoolgirl and a hyena." 

"Well, you don't use it nearly enough, all the same." 

"Maybe..." Todd crosses his arms and turns back to the board. Indicating the subject must be dropped. 

 

Then Dirk says in a soft voice,"I still like it." 

 

Maybe one day, Todd will figure out why this makes him warm all over. Figure out the not uncomfortable squeeze it gives his chest, knowing Dirk's heard his laugh, and insisted he liked it. 

 

But for now, he's too damn tired.

To tired to face something that might turn their relationship on it's head.  

After a minute of quiet contemplation, Dirk speaks again.

"Todd,'" He has that tone that says he's trying to keep a straight face. "What's Superman's favorite street?" 

"Lois Lane. Nice try." 

But he allows Dirk a smile.


	4. Head Canons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidentally deleted this chappie, and had no backup like the idiot I am, so I has to redo it from memory, so It's not exactly the same. (Personally, I think it's a little better.)  
> This chapter is connected with the previous one.

**1.**

There's no telling when it will strike.

 

No one likes it.

 

Todd hates doing it more than most.

 

He tries to remain on guard at all times, but it's inevitable that… one day…

 

A faint prickling is his only warning.

_Please no…_

 

"Ker- _CHOO!_ "

 

Farah and Dirk pause their conversation to look at him with matching expressions of mild surprise.

 

_Dammit._

 

Of course, Dirk's the first to speak. "Was that  _you?_ "

"I don't' see anyone else here." Todd gripes.

"I thought it might be the kitten…" He struggles, and fails, to stifle the smile that wants to appear on his face. "...Sounded just like her. My God, you sneeze just like a cat!"

He actually looks delighted and endeared. The bastard.

"I do not!" Todd denies rather uselessly.

"Oh really?" Dirk doesn't even bother trying to hide his amusement anymore. He turns to their companion, who's also smiling. "How would you describe it Farah?"

"I'd say you almost hit the nail on the head." She says. "But I was thinking it sounded more along the lines of… a started terrier, maybe?"

Todd sputters. "A terr… screw that!"

"Don't tell me you're embarrassed by it?"

True, he knows he's a little too defensive about something so inconsequential, but every now and then he feels entitled to be a little less grown up. "I'd be a lot less if you guys wouldn't make a big deal about it."

"Honestly." Dirk shakes his head with a pitying expression. "First your laugh, now your sneeze. It's a wonder you even let yourself _breathe_ during your band years."

He's probably got a good point there.

Not that Todd will admit it in this lifetime. 

* * *

 

**2.**

It's been several months since Todd last wore his glasses. He's had no real need for them, since he knows the layout of his apartment so well he could navigate it with his eyes closed.

Plus, lacking any medical insurance during his previous job meant he guarded his contacts like a dragon guards its hoard.

It has nothing to do with vanity. He just finds them cumbersome, doesn't like the feel of them on his face. But in the event that his contacts go missing, which is inevitable these days with his unpredictable schedule and this job's tendency to land him in different places, he has no problem fishing his case out of the utility drawer.

By some miracle they've remained unharmed from the Rowdy Three's redecorating party. Just a quick clean of the lenses and they're good to go.

Thus situated he sits on the couch and opens his laptop for this case's much needed research on alpacas.

About an hour later, (it's mind boggling how much stuff people will post about some lesser-known member of the camel family, and how little of it is useful), when he gets a text from Dirk saying he's coming over (he's finally breaking him of the breaking in habit).

This will be interesting.

Dirk's energetic moods aren't so hard to deal with when you know they're coming. He briefly considers texting back with a warning about the change in his appearance, but no sooner has this thought than hears Dirk's footsteps down the hall.

Oh well. Might as well just let it happen.

Opening the door only half a second after a brief, perfunctory knock (hey, it's progress), Dirk marches in wearing the latest addition to his growing jacket collection, one the exact same shade of purple as the allegedly-grape-flavored cold medicine Todd's mom gave him as a kid.

The detective is focused on the pamphlet in his hand. "Thought I'd drop by for a mo'. See how you're doing with…' he glances up and trails off.

Cue Startled Expression. Followed by Second of Uncharacteristic Silence.

"Todd! Are those…  _glasses_  you're wearing?"

Todd grins in spite of himself. "Isn't that the purpose of glasses?"

"Yes, yes I know but…" he leans closer for a better look. "I had no  _idea!_ "

"Yeah, my eyes don't work too well."

"So it fallows that most of the time you wear contact lenses."

Todd can't resist. "That's correct. Ever thought about becoming a detective when you grow up?"

Dirk pouts indignantly. "Well… maybe you should be a bellhop when _you_ grow up."

Todd laughs. "Touché."

Dirk sits on the arm of the sofa, still peering closely, channeling every ounce of concentration on Todd's specs. "Seriously though, they look good on you. Quite dapper, really."

"Just what I've been waiting all day to hear."

"No really! They make you look… oh what's the word? Cosmopolitan?"

Todd snorts. "Somehow I don't think that's the description you're looking for. Unless you're saying they make me look like I'm free from localized ideas or customs. Or else I remind you of a cocktail usually drunk by rich, middle-aged white women."

Dirk makes a face. "That's not it at all."

"Maybe you're thinking of 'sophisticated', or 'urbane'."

Dirk grins widely. "Yes! Those are the ones! Once again you're assisting is right on point."

Todd rolls his eyes but keeps smiling. "I assume you didn't come here just to tell me how handsome I am." He gestures to the pamphlet still in his friend's hand.

"Hm?" He glances down at it. "Oh, right. Very good Todd." he plunks down next to him.

"It's about the ranch…"

They discuss the new information they've both gathered. All the while, from the corner of his vision, Todd can see Dirk trying to discretely study him.

Key word, 'trying'.

Not too long ago Todd would've found this kind of thing obnoxious.

Now?

Now it's kind of endearing, to be perfectly honest.

* * *

 

**3.**

 

But that was nothing compared to Dirk's reaction on learning, from a random comment on Amanda's part, that…

 

" _You have a tattoo?!_ "

 

Todd winces. Once again this warrants a level of surprise way out of proportion to the information. He wouldn't have looked more surprised to hear Todd once had dinner with the king of Thailand.

"Well, sure. Lots of people have them."

"I know but… I _didn't_ know. Well I suppose it makes sense, you being a musician and whatnot. What is it? _Where_ is it?"

"Uh…" This last question seems incredibly intimate.

Amanda starts snickering.

Dirk suddenly looks mortified. "Oh God, sorry! You don't have to answer that last one. Or the first one, even. It's your business and none of my own, and I'd understand perfectly if it's too personal…"

"Oh for Chrissake."

Todd gets to his feet, lifting the hem of his t-shirt and lowering the waistband of jeans and boxers just enough to show the small, black "9" etched on his right hip.

Dirk gets very quiet, and a little pink. "Oh."

Todd straightens his clothes and sits back down, trying to act unbothered.

"Well," Amanda grins. "That wasn't awkward at all."

"You brought up the subject." Todd reminds her.

"Why a nine?" Dirks asks, in an unsteady voice.

Todd figures if he keeps talking there will be little room for things to get weird again. "It had some significance at the time, but I don't remember anymore."

Dirk's eyes widen slightly. "Were you drunk when you got it?"

Todd snorts. "Of course not. I was perfectly sober, at least at that moment."

He thinks aloud, "Maybe I just got it to have one." 

\-------------------

Dirk doesn't bring this up again until Todd's driving them home.

"I have one."

It's been a couple hours, so Todd can be forgiven for not knowing the context of this statement. "One what?"

"A tattoo."

Todd's eyebrows migrate a full inch up his forehead and he shoots Dirk a surprised glance. "Really?"

"Mm-hm." He notices Dirk is looking straight ahead, and his body language is closed off. 

"You don't have to tell me about this, if it makes you uncomfortable."

"I want to."

Todd returns his gaze to the road, taking a breath. "Did you get it in… did they give it to you?"

"Yes." He hears Dirk fidget and clear his throat. "It's the Icarus symbol. They put it between my shoulders."

Todd chews his lip before asking, "How old were you?"

"Almost fourteen. That was probably when they decided to keep me… indefinitely."

Todd's grip on the steering wheel tightens until his hands hurt.

"Bastards."

"It didn't hurt getting it." Dirk hastens to assure him. "They injected something under my skin to numb the area." He pauses briefly. "They tended to avoid causing pain that wasn't necessary for research or discipline."

This does nothing to make Todd feel better.

They're both silent now. Blackwing's shadow cast over the car.

Dirk doesn't have to tell him these things, Todd's made it as clear as he can. But he does anyway. Simply because he wants to.

Maybe a part of him needs to, the same way Todd needed to tell him about faking his family's disease.

"Thank you." He finds himself saying.

"For what?"

"For, you know…" He shrugs. "Trusting me with that."

The shadow gradually disappears, slowly lit from within by the human ray of sunshine in the passenger seat.

* * *

  **4.**

Not once has it occurred to Todd that English might not be Dirk's first language. Granted, learning his birth name threw him for a loop, but he's never stopped to think of the implications. Still, Dirk couldn't be more British-ly British if he bathed in Earl Gray and sang God Save the Queen while spreading marmalade on his crumpets. So Todd can be forgiven for assuming that, even if Dirk was clearly born somewhere else, somewhere more Slavic speaking, he probably has no memory of it.

Todd is, in a word, wrong.

On the occasions they've slept in the same room, either on a stakeout or when Dirk simply crashes on Todd's couch, He's heard the detective talk in his sleep. He was perfectly quiet in the back of the jeep, during the scavenger hunt in the first days of their partnership, probably because he had been completely exhausted when he fell asleep. He's not particularly loud or disruptive, so it didn't take long for Todd to get used to it. 

Occasionally, he's heard unfamiliar words strung into sentences that he assumes is pure gibberish.  

It takes a literal conk on the head to learn otherwise. 

After running into a low-hanging water pipe that probably would've cleared over Todd's head, Dirk is left sprawling on the floor of an abandoned warehouse with a nasty concussion that leaves him unable to properly answer simple questions, such as where he lives, how old he is, or even his actual name (he seems torn between Dirk Gently and Dirk Cjelli). 

Once again, Farah is the cooler head that prevails. "We don't need to call an ambulance, but he still needs to go to the emergency room." 

"Can he even walk?"

They both wince sympathetically as Dirk whimpers in pain. 

"We should definitely wait until he's less dizzy." She concedes. 

Dirk moans again. "Oog... Todd..." 

"Hey man," Todd places a light hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. "Farah says you're gonna' be okay, so I believe you're gonna' be okay." 

Dirk closes his eyes. "I feel sick..." 

"Like you're gonna' puke?" 

"Capul meu bolnav..." 

Todd's breath sticks in his throat. "What?" 

"Vreau mama mea..." 

 _Shit._  

Todd and Farah exchange worried looks. "I'm sorry Dirk...I don't understand.. ." 

The detective's eyes pry open. "Did Friedkin do this?' 

Farah shakes her head. "He's not... no one did this. It was an accident. Soon as you'e up to it we're going to take you to the hospital. In the meantime just try to relax, 'kay?" 

Dirk grimaces but gives a slight nod. "Okay." 

Fifteen minutes later the three of them slowly make their way to the car, Dirk's arms slung over their shoulders, and they carefully lay him across the backseat. Farah takes the wheel, while Todd twists his head back to check on Dirk one last time. 

"Everything's going to be fine." He says for maybe the fifth time, partly to remind himself. 

Dirk opens his eyes and gives a slow smile, filled with an infinite trust and tenderness that gives Todd pause. 

 

"O sa fiu bine, mea draga." 

 

Todd freezes. 

 

Something in him swells, slides into place.

"What'd he say?" Farah asks. 

"um.." Todd turns back around. "I... I don't really know." 

 

But he thinks he can guess, from Dirk's tone. 

 

At that moment, he makes a decision that he's been wrestling with for a long time. 

Soon as Dirk's back to feeling like his old self, the two of them are going to have a very important talk. 

In the meantime, he reaches back to take Dirk's hand, and doesn't let go even when they reach the hospital. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist referencing Elijah's astigmatism, or his 'Fellowship' tattoo. I think Todd should *definitely* have some ink.  
> Dirk's words were Translated from English to Romanian via Google Translate, so I don't know how accurate it is. He should be saying, "My aching head..." "I want my mom." and, "I'll be fine, my darling."


	5. Angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of straddles the line into M rating Here. Oh Gosh, this chapter gave me so much trouble, mostly because I was trying too hard. I had to shorten it, I hope it's worth all the grief it's brought me.

He goes through the motions like a sleepwalker. 

Unlock the car. Open the door. Get in. Close the door. Put on seat belt. Turn on the ignition. Signal. Check your blind spot... 

Todd watches the road stretched before him like a television screen. Seeing, aware, but not affected. Like always, it's full of people going about their lives, having another day just like any other. 

There are a thousand things he could be, should be, thinking of right now. 

But all he can focus on is breaking the news to Dirk. 

He'll be hit the hardest out of everyone. He doesn't take bad news well. Anything related to hardship or heartbreak... 

 

_Heartbreak..._

 

A choked sound comes from his throat that takes him a moment to recognize as some perversion of a laugh.

The universe truly does possess a sense of justice, however twisted.  Dirk's experiment-sister Bart alone is proof of that. The same kind of karma that sent his life down the toilet years ago, that gave him the disease he faked to exploit his family's love and trust. 

It's poetic justice, really. 

He's figuratively broken so hearts: his sister's, his parents', Dirk's.

It's only fitting that the universe literally break his.

 

* * *

What had started seven month ago as chest pains, dipping energy, and growing difficulty in catching his breath gradually mushroomed into something he never thought he would have to deal with at this point in his life. At the time he'd blamed it on the colder weather, on the number of times he let his boyfriend talk him into eating pizza for dinner, on impending middle-age, and sometimes a combination of all three.

He never thought he'd see the day when Pararibulitis was the least of his worries. 

It's getting harder and harder to run away from suspects during cases, too much exertion makes his chest hurt, makes him wheeze and cough like a rusty old locomotive. Even when he rests he feels his heart palpitating sometimes. he's never been so aware of it, like a tacking time bomb. 

It was inevitable the others would notice sooner or later, frequently asking him if he'd slept well, or if he was feeling alright, because he looked too pale, or too tired.

Farah and Dirk frequently find ways to keep him in the office when they go on investigating, sparing him the more physical stuff. Todd knows it's because they care, because they're scared and don't know what's going on.

He still feels left out, frustrated.

It was two weeks ago he finally buckled down and made a doctor's appointment to figure out what's going on.

Those two weeks of waiting were hell.

He's been afraid to eat anything even remotely unhealthy. Cut down his caffeine intake by at least half, which needless to say has left him drowsy and irritable (even more than usual, that is).

The worst part of all this is how it's affecting Dirk.

Most of the time, a little of the usual light in his eyes is slightly dulled, his smiles strained. He doesn't talk about it, and probably doesn't know how to bring it up, but it's clearly always on his mind, coloring all his words and actions.

He's tried to be supportive, eating as healthy as he does and things like that. Which bothers him and he doesn't know why. 

A few times, Todd's pretty sure he's gone solo. How else can he explain Dirk disappearing for several hours on end, allegedly running errands, then returning home looking exhausted, covered in singe marks, or smelling like a petting zoo? When pressed  he'd acted shifty, admitting, "Well, I _might've_ gone on a few detours while I was already out."    

What's also frustrating is Dirk's sudden unspoken vow of celibacy. It makes perfect sense, he'll admit, Dirk's afraid of aggravating whatever's clearly wrong with Todd's cardiovascular system. But even so... 

He's lost track of the number of times they've gotten close, their kisses got heated and the momentum starting, only for his boyfriend to pull away mumbling some apologetic excuse about not feeling well, or too tired, or occasionally pretending to be distracted and drawing Todd's attention to something else. And Todd has to bite his tongue to keep from screaming, reminding himself that he's had dry streaks that have lasted much longer than this. That this is Dirk's way of coping and he needs to be patient.

He'd tried to comfort himself with the thought that, as soon as he spoke to the doctor, they would have answers, there would be no more guesswork.

He's been telling himself this every time Dirk looks at him with that small undercurrent of fear visible beneath the surface, every time Dirk frowns anxiously and asks how he's feeling.  

He hates causing that look. 

* * *

 Which brought Todd to this morning. 

The general practitioner spotted something off from the very beginning. With the stethoscope on Todd's chest she'd commented, with an expression carefully crafted to appear neutral, that Todd had noticeable arrhythmia, elevated pressure in his jugular, and probably tachycardia, just to name a few. 

The ECG confirmed all of this, as well as valve regurgitation, left atrial enlargement... 

"It look's to me like Dilated cardiomyopathy," She'd said. "or enlarged heart, in layman's terms." 

From what she could tell, apparently the left ventricle had enlarged, and was crowding out the right ventricle, keeping both from working properly. 

At the moment Todd had felt numb, asking in voice one million miles away, "How does this happen? No one in my family has heart problems." 

"It's rarely genetic. It can be caused by a number of factors. You admitted to using recreational drugs throughout most of your twenties." Her tone had been neither judgmental nor accusing, just matter-of fact. "And shortly after that your sister got sick and you spent the next six years supporting her with highly stressful jobs. And your blood pressure still tends to run pretty high these days." 

She'd said some more things, mostly technical, something about referring Todd to a cardiologist to get a full diagnosis. 

At some point Todd stopped listening, everything buzzing out like a radio losing its signal. An echoing void opening up beneath him... 

* * *

 

It's opening up again. The view is becoming blurry and his throat's getting tight. 

He blinks hard, taking a slow, deep breath, letting his vision clear until he's pulled over safely to the curb. His head bows until it touches the steering wheel, squeezing his eyes shut, but can't stop tears from rolling down his cheeks in fat drops.

Mom and Dad. 

Farah. 

Amanda. 

Dirk. 

Oh God, _Dirk..._

He may deserve this, but they don't. Watching him suffer, suffering with him... 

hell, Dirk's already becoming a basket case. 

The universe must well and truly hate them both. 

And suddenly, every other emotion is swept away by anger that wells in his chest. Gushing around his failing heart.

He was wrong. This inst' justice. 

The forces that have been pulling the love of his life around like a marionette have gone too far this time. This can only be out of spite, sadism. 

"You can't do this..." 

He slowly lifts his head, glaring up at the car roof. 

"Are you listening?! I won't let you!" 

Words are pulled from some deep crevice in him, words that have been forming for years.

"After all the shit you drag him into... after all he's been through... I will _not_ let you take this away from him!" he beats his fist against the wheel. "You son of a bitch! I'm not leaving!" 

He rants and yells some more, not even really sure what he's saying, slightly out of breath when he stops, not really sure if it's just his imagination, and past caring at this point.

He suddenly notices two men right outside his window, looking in with extremely concerned expressions, probably wondering if an offer of assistance would be welcome, or if he might be some maniac having a total breakdown.    

He gives them a wan smile and a slight shake of his head. _Thank you, no._  

 They both nod sympathetically, then turn and walk away. 

Todd takes a deep, steadying breath. Having released some measure of anger, a part of him feels lighter. But there are other hurtles to go through. 

 And he definitely can't do it alone. 

* * *

 

On the way home he rehearses what to say in his head. The gentlest way to break this to Dirk without sugar-coating anything. Needless to say, he _really_ want's to get this part over with.

He's so much in the zone that finding the apartment completely empty leaves him slightly stunned and off-balance. 

Dirk hadn't said anything about going anywhere, but then again, last minute jaunts are not unheard of from Mister Leaf In the Stream of Creation. Todd checks his phone for clues, having put it on silent at some point and completely forgotten. There's a text sent from Dirk approximately fifteen minutes after he left for his appointment.

 _Hi! Sorry 2 bother u but it was a last minute thing, and ur not answering ur phone. Found a lead in haunted libry case! :D Going to look into it. Will try 2 call when I'm done. I'm wishing u luck luv <3 <3_  

Todd heaves a sigh. But cracks a grin.  Once again, the holistic detective's left him feeling some mixture of nonplussed and fond. 

This is gonna' be a long day. 

* * *

 

He spends the rest of the afternoon listening to music at constantly changing volumes. He's called Farah to ask where Dirk is, but she's not entirely sure, so all he can do is wait for his boyfriend to get back to him, and try not to get frustrated at him. They need to clear things up, but they can't do that if Dirk's going to be gallivanting around without telling anyone where he's going or what he's doing.

He's so zoned out the sound of his phone ringing makes him jump. 

 _This is probably what'll kill me._  he jokes to himself. 

Sure enough, it's Dirk. 

"Hey..." 

"Todd! I'm so sorry for taking off like this! I wasn't sure when I would get another chance, I thought I'd only be gone half an hour at the most..." 

"Hey, its okay." Todd assures him. "I got some time to unwind."

"Oh...good."  

There's a brief pregnant pause before Dirk reluctantly continues, "So, erm... how was it? What did the doctor say?" 

 Todd swallows. Practicing hasn't made it nearly as easy as he hoped it would. "It was...informative." 

"In what way?' 

"He said the left chamber of my heart's become enlarged." 

"And that's... a bad thing?" 

"It can't work the way it should." 

"Oh." 

"He's not completely, one hundred percent sure though. He wants me to see a cardiologist, who will probably have me undergo a stress test..."

Dirk interrupts in a low urgent voice. "Can it be cured?"

 "It can be treated. It's not the worst thing that can happen, and a lot of people live with it for years and years. But they're concerned about prescribing me things that might mess with my pararibulitis meds." 

"I see." 

For a beat neither of them say anything as Dirk absorbs this. 

"I'll be home shortly." He says at last. "I'll pick up dinner on the way." 

"Sounds great. See you then." 

Softly, earnestly, Dirk says, "I love you." 

A lump forms in Todd's throat. "Love you too." 

* * *

 

Dirk arrives bearing Chinese takeout, smiling but clearly unsettled. 

"I hope you're hungry!" He chirps too brightly. "I got both of us steamed rice and orange chicken."  

Todd grins. "Famished. And that sounds great."

As Dirk sets the containers on the counter Todd gets out the plates and utensils. 

"Listen, about this afternoon, you don't have to apologize for taking more time on a lead than you thought you would, it happens to us all the time." 

He starts setting their places at the coffee table in the living room. "What bother's me is that you went alone. At least take Farah with you next time." 

Dirk is still fussing with the boxes, probably to keep his hands busy. "Well, I could've but I... didn't want you to feel left out." 

Todd pauses. 

Dirk's been noticing more than he originally thought.  

He's still messing around with the food containers, which have somehow garnered his absolute focus. 

Now is a good a time as any. 

"Dirk, could you look at me a sec?" 

Dirk freezes, expression stuck in some cross between a fake smile and a grimace. He makes brief eye contact before setting his gaze somewhere over Todd's left shoulder. 

Close enough. 

"We need to talk about this." 

The other man's brow scrunches. "About what? Dinner?" 

"I mean about me. About what's going on." 

Dirk goes very stiff. "I thought we already talked about it on the phone." 

"No that's,..." he struggles with what he wants to say, what he's needed to say. 

Dirk meets his eyes, stepping out of the kitchen to stand closer, which makes it a little easier. 

"Okay...here's the deal. I know you're scared. Believe me, I am too. But... for the last few months, this, this thing's been hanging over our heads, it's been coming between us. Like... I feel like there's this sheet of glass between us, and... I can see you on the other side, terrified, y'know? But I can't touch you." 

Dirk's expression gets turbulent, he slowly drops his gaze, swallowing hard. "But I don't... I'm not sure how..." he sounds very young, and very lost. 

"I'm not mad." Todd assures him. "I'm not blaming you. I just wish... we both need to stop hiding from this. And, You've been treating me like an old man in a rest home. I don't need that. I need you to treat me like you've always done." 

Dirk tenses up again. 

"Again, I'm not mad. But you didn't treat me like this when you found out I had pararibulitis." 

 

Dirk's gaze snaps up. "That's because it's not killing you!" 

 

Taken aback, Todd watches helplessly as Dirk's composure quickly unravels piece-by-piece, watching his eyes overflow and hands begin to tremble. 

"I'ts... it's horrible, I know. More horrible than I can probably imagine." He hastily wipes his eyes. "This is different. This is... God, I can't lose you!"  

Todd puts a hand on his arm. "Dirk, you're not..." 

"I need you! We all need you!" He gains and builds momentum, sobbing openly now. "All of us! The universe... even if we'd never met, the universe is a better place just having you in it." He closes his eyes and takes a broken gulp of air. "And now, you're leaving it..." 

Fuck. 

Todd's traitorous eyes start welling up, a broken laugh leaving his mouth. "You know I hate it when you make me cry." 

Dirk opens his eyes again and looks at him pleadingly, bereft. broken. "Please don't go. Don't leave." 

Todd quickly wraps his arms around him, resting his chin on his shoulder. "I'll try." He promises. "Nothing's written in stone. It might not be as bad as we're making it out to be." He gently rubs between Dirk's shoulder blades. "But, even if it is, I'm not giving up without a fight."  

Dirk returns the hug for all he's worth, giving short, jagged sobs. Like a little kid, he cries so hard he hiccups. Todd lets him get it out, lightly stroking his back and dropping kisses on his wet cheek. 

He calms after a minute or two, still hiccuping for a while longer, leaning all his weight on the shorter man. 

When he seems calm enough, Todd leans back and lightly takes his tear-stained face in his hands, gives him an encouraging smile, then kisses him. 

Dirk's pliant mouth opens with a faint sigh, arms slowly moving to Todd's waist. Todd's own hands wander to stroke his hair, over his shoulders, tracing patterns at the nape of his neck, just letting Dirk feel him, letting him lick his way carefully inside to drink him in.

It's horribly, terribly cliched, but moment's so emotionally charged, and it's been so fucking long, it doesn't take much for every curl of Dirk's tongue to send another warm trickle settling deep in Todd's belly. 

Finally deciding enough is enough, he lightly backs Dirk up until he's sitting on the couch, and uses the opportunity to crawl into his lap. 

Dirk inhales sharply and pulls away with noticeable reluctance. "H-hold on..." 

Todd practically growls, subtlety gone he latches his mouth onto Dirk's throat with open-mouthed suction and sharp nips, making him yelp.

"Don't you dare... give me some half-asses excuse... b'out being too tired, or having a headache... some shit like that. I'm not buying it."

"No I... _eep_! I wasn't... _oh!_..."

"This is exactly what I'm talking about." He slides his hips over the growing ridge prodding his thigh. "Like I said...not buying it." 

Dirk gasps.  "But ... but..." 

Todd finally unlatches himself from his neck to meet his eyes straight on. "Enforced celibacy isn't helping me! If anything it's making things worse! It's fucking torture being next to you... and not being able to touch you, like I want to."

" _Todd.._."

 "Look, if you're still not convinced, I'll look up every medical article I can find on the benefits of regular sex on cardiovascular health... read them all to you word-by-word if I have to..."

He leans until his mouth is right by Dirk's ear, whispers,

 

"Because I want you. So. Fucking. Much, Gently."  

 

That's all it takes fro Dirk's resolve to crumple like paper mache in a typhoon, collapsing backwards with a moan and pulling Todd over him, hands and mouth everywhere.  

"I need you with me Dirk... need to feel you... God _yes_...

Oh God, it's been so long.

Todd's melting, fusing with him, drinking him in. They yank and pull at each others clothes, but don't get past stripping to the waist before they start rocking together, and Todd sees stars from the very get-go. The sheet of glass is gone and they're connected again, re-memorizing him, and Todd's five senses fill with Dirk, the taste of his lips, the taste of his skin, the sounds of his moans, whimpers, and gasps, the velvety glide of his bare chest and belly against his own, gasping as it coils tighter and tighter, watching Dirk arch under him...

 

 When he comes, it's not explosive or earth-moving. But it's exactly what he needs.

 

And, yeah, his heart is racing and he's slightly out of breath, but no more than usual, no more than Dirk is. And both gradually slow down to normal, like they always do.

Dirk suddenly lifts his head to give him an anxious look.

"M'okay." Tddd pants before he can ask, feeling his own grin stretch from ear to ear. "Totally fine."

Dirk relaxes with a soft, glowy smile. "Good." He kisses the top of Todd's head. 

Todd traces circles on the back of Dirk's hand with his thumb. " 'Course, it's not a bad way to go."

 They both laugh. 

The future might not be any clearer. 

But he can face it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, I'm not a med student. Sorry if I get something wrong.


	6. AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy howdy! This puppy is loooong! But, so far my favorite. Short moment of Todd being a jerk

"Everything ready?"

"Just about."

The head engineer flicked a few switches before leaning into the microphone. "We'll cue you just before we begin, Brotzman."

In the booth Todd gave a brief nod of acknowledgement, mainly focused on tuning the guitar.

Dirk found himself shifting nervously on his feet. He didn't know why. He had absolutely no reason to be nervous, none whatsoever.

Then again, this day was a long time coming.

His ears picked up the muttering beside and a little behind him "Hope this was worth it. For a newbie he's damn hard to get a hold of."

He gave the offending party a quick glance out of the corner of his eye.

He'd never really been a fan of Lux Dujour, but now the apathy was turning into justifiable dislike. The man stood with arms folded, radiating indolence and superior dissatisfaction.

Dirk bit his tongue, once again moving his focus to his employer in the sound booth. Like him or not, this man had connections, and if he liked what he heard, Todd's career would shoot through the roof.

This was possibly a historic moment Dirk was witnessing. Certainly felt like it.

"Annnd… _now._ "

Todd raised his head slightly, still slouched over the instrument, but he didn't look at the people watching him on the other side of the glass, about to record his voice. He positioned his hands.

Dirk almost held his breath.

The near-permanent crease in his brow smoothed out, his body relaxed, bit by bit. It was like the world had melted from his consciousness, and there was only him, the guitar, and the notes in his being, about to pour out.

And Dirk never tired of watching it.

Todd's fingers began strumming, plucking notes, he leaned toward the mic, and began to sing… 

* * *

 

Being a personal assistant to an up-and-coming alt-rock musician had not been Dirk's first career choice, but he ended up being very glad it happened.

He wasn't exactly the best candidate for this line of work. He was the first to admit he could be a little scatter-brained, disorganized, and sometimes found it difficult to stay focused on a single train of thought for extended periods of time (one well-meaning employer even asked if he had some kind of attention deficit disorder).  

And yet, he always came through, getting the job done… with arguable efficiency.

If given a choice, he would have become some sort of private detective. Not the usual kind, mind you, preoccupied with fingerprints and deductive reasoning, but like all the great sleuths, his methods would be effectively unorthodox, following the threads of the universe, the innate interconnectedness of all things.

This method was not without merit. He always had a knack for finding lost things, though his specialty was pets. In his opinion, this tool would be  _fantastic_  for solving mysteries, such as stolen valuables, or murder.

But the universe rarely did things the way you wanted it to. And it decided Dirk should be a P.A.

He'd had all sorts of clientele, including, but not limited to, musicians. The latter was, in Dirk's experience, a rather spoiled, touchy lot. Some of them were even more mentally disorganized than he (which was saying something), and had memories like a sieve.

This probably had something to do with their general disinterest in the more mundane things, such as schedules, appointments, booking, responsibilities, etc. Not to mentions the large amount of alcohol and other slightly less legal substances they regularly consumed, for which they never saw the connection, no matter how often Dirk might (politely) point this out.

No, if they had missed or forgotten something important, it  _clearly_  was Dirk's fault, never mind how many times he reminded them. Heaven  _forbid_  they actually take accountability for their mistakes.

Yes he  _was_  getting fed up. Thank you for asking.

Roughly a year ago, between jobs, he'd been contacted by a man named Patrick Spring, claiming to be the agent of the singer Todd Brotzman.

Dirk had heard of Brotzman in passing, mostly from previous employers and their acquaintances in the music industry. He'd also caught a glimpse of his brooding expression in a photograph whilst flipping through an issue of  _Alternative Press_.

At the time, nothing in particular had struck him about the man, he was simply one of many talented individuals who played music Dirk found hard to fallow.

Well, that and the fact he had the most striking eyes Dirk had ever seen.

Perhaps, were it not for that little observation, he wouldn't have remembered him at all, like some hook to catch onto his memory.

Hearing from Patrick, it had taken Dirk a moment to connect the name to the face and scant information.

He'd figured it wouldn't hurt.

That weekend Patrick, a large, intimidating man, gave him an interview. And, just like that, he was hired.

He met his new boss the following Monday. This time a great many things struck him.

Like how small in stature Todd actually was, the seemingly-permanent scowl on his face, the light dusting of freckles on the bridge of his nose, and the most expressive eyebrows Dirk had ever encountered.

Todd, meanwhile, sized him up with a doubtful expression, taking in his canary-yellow leather jacket, his tie, his meticulously combed hair, and his (hopefully) disarming, professional smile.

Finally speaking, sounding faintly dubious, Todd had said, "Well, Patrick thinks you're what I need in a P.A., and I've always trusted his judgment, so, I guess you're in."

Hearing this caused the nervousness to swoosh right out of Dirk. "Oh, thank you sir! I'm very glad to hear that, and I've been so looking forward to working with you!"

Todd had winced. "Right, could you please… not call me that?"

"Oh absolutely. Whatever you say Mr. Brotzman."

Todd had grimaced again and sighed. "Look…"

Bugger! Barely three days in and he was already fired!

"…If it's all the same to your, I'd prefer that we remain on a first name basis."

The best way to describe Dirk's emotion upon hearing this, besides confusion, was emotional whiplash.

"Er… ah… huh?"

"I realize it's not professional, and probably not what you're used to. Hell, if it makes you uncomfortable, just forget I said anything."

It took a second before Dirk finally processed that:

A: He wasn't fired, and …

B: Todd actually cared whether or not something made him comfortable.

"Oh… no, I don't' mind it at all, er, Todd."

Todd had looked satisfied at that, nodding lightly. "'Kay then. Welcome aboard Dirk."

He had a distinct feeling this might be the best job of his life. 

* * *

 

And the trend had continued.

It was a bit of a pleasant surprise when, the next day, Todd had asked him casually what his favorite music was.

"You really want to know?"

Todd had given him another of those characteristic bendy-eyebrow looks. "Well, yeah. Is that so weird?"

"Yes. I mean no. I mean… people I've worked with rarely ask that question."

He seemed hard-pressed to believe such a thing. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not particularly good at jokes."

At that point, Todd had looked not a little confused.

"And to answer your earlier question, I generally prefer music along the lines of Miss A, Miley Cyrus,…"

Todd's expressions went through varying levels of disbelief and disgust. "Oh God, tell me you're joking this time. Even if you're not, just  _say_  you are."

"Well, I realize it's quite different than what you play yourself…"

"As in, I play something vaguely good while they play complete, glittering garbage?"

There had been no bite to this statement.

"Are you… joking with me?"

Todd almost smiled. "In a manner of speaking, yeah."

"Oh! I get it now!"

"I'm not entirely sure you do."

Dirk was beginning to wonder, with some distress, if it was legal for a musician to fire someone based on their taste in music. "What do you mean?" He did a horrible job of hiding his worry.

Todd sighed. "Just promise you won't play your music without headphones when I'm working on a song."

Oh. This was… surprisingly reasonable.

"Oh yes! I can definitely do that! Will do! Roger wilco!"

Todd looked slightly startled and overwhelmed. "Right. Promise me you'll also stick to decaf."

"Another joke!"

"No, not really." 

* * *

 

From the very get-go, it had become increasingly clear that Todd was like no one else Dirk had ever worked for. Especially other musicians.

For starter, he lived well within his means. His flat, while nice, wasn't the fanciest he could afford, filled with second hand furniture, lacking any superfluous luxuries one might come to associate with showbiz types, feeling simply comfortable and homely.

Dirk was later to learn that most of Todd's money was set aside for his family. According to Todd's friend, and sometimes body guard, Farah Black, this all had to do with some family disease.

In college, back when he and his friends were starting a band called  _Mexican Funeral_ , He came down with pararibulits: A rare, generally nonfatal genetic nerve disease that caused the sufferer to experience vivid hallucinations, such as having pins stuck in their arm, catching fire, or drowning, and feel them as if they were truly happening.

Somehow, Todd continued with his aspirations, even after the band eventually broke up, but he'd needed money from his parents to pay for treatments and medications.

Then, six years ago, his younger sister Amanda, with whom he was very close (and whom Dirk thought fantastic), came down with the illness. Todd was cured a short while later, but by that time their parents had gone completely broke, which seemed to strike him quite hard.

Now, however, he was making good money to help repay his parents, and finance Amanda's numerous treatments, and even hire her a part-time housekeeper when household chores became likely to trigger attacks.

Strangely, whenever Dirk talked about this, praised Todd for his familial loyalty, the other man seemed to curl in on himself, growing noticeably uncomfortable.

So, that added 'humble' to the list of Things Describing Todd Brotzman.

The longer Dirk stayed, the longer the list grew.

Todd was grateful.

He'd been surprised the first time Dirk managed to reschedule an important appointment at last minute. But he'd been clearly impressed, giving Dirk a light thanks, not knowing how rare appreciation had been in Dirk's past jobs.

And in Todd's employ, this show of appreciation grew considerably less rare. Even if it was rarely a simple straightforward, "thanks", it was always clear. A subtle change in expression, a compliment, a remark on Dirk's competence.

Todd listened.

This was also a rarity for Dirk. Granted, most of what he said might elicit reactions like bewilderment and annoyance, Todd let him talk, never demanding that he shut up. Whatever he thought about the things Dirk said, he always listened.

The conversations were rarely one-sided. They had many talks and chats, and Dirk rather enjoyed the days when Farah and Amanda joined in.

Todd was compassionate.

Though a definite grump, rife with sarcasm, he cared easily and strongly for other people, whether he knew them or not. Some of the money not set aside for his family was turned into anonymous donations to various charities, especially ones involving mental illnesses. He was always nice and polite to his fans without overdoing it.

He remembered everyone's birthdays. Everyone, even Patrick's teenage daughter Lydia, got something small but heartfelt from him when they turned another year older, and they were always touched.

Dirk himself had gotten a set of fancy teas that he had expressed a desire for. He made absolute certain to thank Todd repeatedly, which earned an eye roll but also a smirk.

Todd was surprising.

He had, Dirk was pleased to discover, a soft spot regarding animals. One rainy morning had found Dirk being pulled by a hunch to an alleyway, where he found a tiny black kitten shivering from the wet and cold. He'd picked the poor thing up and carried it to his car, then remembered he was late for work.

Needless to say, he'd been loath to leave the poor creature in his flat, all alone in a strange place.

He'd thought himself terribly clever when he strode into Todd's flat carrying his tiny passenger safely tucked away in his messenger bag.

But there were times he wondered if Todd wasn't a little psychic himself. He'd immediately looked suspicious at Dirk's arrival. "What's with you? You look even more cheerful than usual."  

"Well, why not?" Dirk had said. "I have a roof over my head, a place to call my own, a well-paying job that I love…"

At that moment, in spite of his earlier admonitions to keep quiet, the kitten began to mew.

At the sound Todd raised an eyebrow. "What was that?"

"Er… What was what?"

Then, not satisfied that she'd ruined their secret enough, the kitten had chosen that moment to try to wiggle out of the bag. She didn't succeed, but there was a very conspicuous lump moving around.

Dirk, never one for keeping secrets, broke. "Alright! You caught us!"

He opened the bag and scooped out the kitten with one hand. "I found her outside my building, poor thing was half starved and chilled to the bone. I couldn't just leave her all by herself, could I?"

To his everlasting surprise, Todd had not appeared annoyed, but amused. He glanced lightly at the kitten, then back at Dirk, eyebrows lifted and mouth quirked into what one might tentatively call a smile.

"My advice: get her litter trained, A.S.A.P."

Of course, Dirk had been surprised, but also very relieved.

For a long time afterward, he found it quite difficult to leave Berenice, as he'd named his charge, alone in his flat while he worked. So Todd had very graciously allowed him to bring her along, (though made it quite clear they couldn't take her everywhere they went). Todd's flat became like her second home, and she grew to love its tenant.

Often, Dirk had spied her playing with Todd's shoelaces, or curling next to him as he practiced his guitar. Todd never shooed her away. In fact, the corners of his mouth would twitch upwards, and he might reach down to scratch under her chin.

Todd was moderate.

In additions to his financial frugality, he very rarely overindulged. He didn't go to parties, except perhaps ones he was specifically invited to, just to be polite, then left early without much ceremony. He didn't really use recreational drugs or a surfeit of alcohol, but restrained himself to a beer or two every couple days, and smoked cigarettes when he needed to unwind.

Todd was lonely.

He had a very small group of friends that included Amanda, Farah, Patrick, and Dirk himself. He had no large entourage, didn't walk around trailing fans and groupies. He kept to himself.

In the months Dirk worked for him, Todd had never been on a date. Nearly unheard of in the entertainment industry. Dirk had lost count of how many times he'd walked in on an employer and their amour du jour in a compromising position, which, more often than not, resulted in undignified screaming (mostly on his part) and thrown objects.

But Todd had so far shown no interest in pursuing a romantic relationship.

Patrick (in what was the closest he'd ever come to telling a joke) commented that he was married to his music. Some less understanding colleagues theorized something less noble, such as sickness, either physical or psychological, or impotence.

Dirk thought he knew the answer.

Todd had a shadow hanging over him.

Something never seen or spoken of, but tangible almost to the point of being visceral. It followed him wherever he went, grew more noticeable when he visited Amanda, even though he smiled more for her than anyone else. It seemed to suffocate him when he talked about his parents, about the family's disease.

Above all, Todd was very genuine.

Everyone else in showbiz tended to air on the side of phony. Paying compliments they didn't mean, making promises they never kept, claiming to be your friend one minute, then your sworn enemy the next, then back again. Everything was puffed up, polished, and exaggerated to the extreme.

And everyone lied lie after lie after lie. If they were ever honest, it was usually to hurt.

This wasn't Todd Brotzman. He'd learned the careful art of being honest without being rude or insulting. He was polite to rivals, unless they overstepped some line, then he would give them both barrels. He didn't exaggerate, didn't overstate. He was honest as the day was long. 

* * *

 

There was one last thing though.

Dirk had been afraid to add this to the list. Afraid to acknowledge it. Tried his darnedest to ignore it.

 

Todd was beautiful.

 

Clearly, this didn't just refer to appearance, but definitely factored it in.

He'd know from the start, in an observational, detached way, that Todd was attractive. But Dirk hadn't really  _noticed_ , until the very first time he saw him play.

Up to that point he'd seen him practice, brainstorm, but not actually perform. So he'd looked forward to attending a performance for the first time.

He got his chance less than a month into his employment when a night club hired him to play a few of his songs acoustic.

Even if Dirk lived to be a thousand, he'd never forget it.

Before being announced, Todd had shot him a faintly nervous expression.

"I know it's stupid…I've done this a million times before… I don't even know why, but I feel like I swallowed a hornet's nest."

Dirk smiled. "You'll do great, Todd. They knew what they were doing. They sounded quite impressed when Patrick and I spoke to him."

"If you say so…"

He climbed onstage just as the host announced his name and the spotlight turned on. The audience clapped, while Todd shot them a sheepish smile.

For some incomprehensible reason, this caused a flippy-floppy thing to happen in Dirk's chest.

"Good evening, everybody." Todd said, sounding a little more confident. "I've been looking forward to playing for you guys, and if I'm completely honest, dreading it a little."

This earned an understanding laugh from most of the audience.

Todd started plucking the first notes "I thought I'd start with this number I call 'Under the Cut'."

He lowered his head, bending his focus on the song.

Then he started to sing. His soft, throaty voice flowed around them. Like a stream, it went with the flow of music rather than shaping it.

Dirk found himself utterly mesmerized.

For the first time since they met, Todd's brow unbent, the planes of his face smoothing out, the faintest hint of a smile pulling the curve of his lip. His eyes were half-lidded, shadowing the vibrant blue with thick eyelashes.

He was well and truly  _happy_.

There was no other description Dirk could come up with, even if he'd been the greatest poet in the history of mankind.

It was beautiful. 

* * *

 

Dirk was suddenly yanked from his reminiscing by Todd's phone buzzing in his hand.

He glanced at the caller id. It wasn't a listed number.

The best way to an answer was to… er… answer.

"Hello, Todd Brotzman's phone, this is Dirk Gently speaking."

The voice on the other end wasn't one he recognized. "Mr. Gently, this is Doctor Shelton, from Kindred Hospital, I have an urgent message for Todd Brotzman, concerning his sister."

Dirk's stomach sank to his feet.

"His… A-Amanda?"

"Yes."

Oh no.

Dear God no.

For just the briefest moment, Dirk didn't know what to do. Todd had worked so hard to get to this point. They all had.

But…

He angled the mouthpiece away from his face, then darted over to the head coordinator.

"Stop! He needs to stop right now!"

"For God's sake, what  _now_?" Lux groaned.

Dirk spun to fix him with a challenging glare. "His sister's in the hospital!"

At that the aging singer had the decency to look less impatient. Almost contrite.

Almost.

The head engineer had already turned off the recording. "Todd," He spoke into the mic. "We need to call it. You've got a family emergency."

It was like changing channels with a remote. The music stopped and Todd's head snapped up, color draining from his face, lines set, eyes wide. He looked to Dirk, still holding his phone, and his face fell.

The guitar fell with a sickening screech, and less than five seconds later he was out of the booth, snatching his phone from Dirk's hand.

"H'lo? Yeah. Wha…how? Where?"

He listened to the doctor while Dirk tried to settle the dread rising his own his chest, tried to curtail the inclination to flail in helpless panic, watching Todd's face grow more troubled with each passing second.

"Okay, we'll be right there. Thank you." He hung up and looked at Dirk. "She got a pulmonary in her lung, probably thought she was drowning. She's in Kindred's ER."

He turned to the others. "I'm sorry, but I need to go." Without waiting for an answer he pulled on his jacket and trotted out the door.

Dirk followed a step behind. "What about your equipment?"

Todd gave a faint shrug. "Just tell them to send it to my address."

"I'll drive." Dirk offered.

So worried was Todd, that he let him. _

* * *

 

Apparently, Amanda had an attack while some friends, known collectively as the Rowdies, had come to her house for a visit. Rather than calling an ambulance, they'd driven her to the ER themselves, which was probably a lot faster (and much more dangerous).

The doctor said she was going to be alright, but when they visited her in her room, her smiles and jokes didn't hide the fact her face was the color of an old bar of soap, and her energy seemed sapped.

The drive home was dead quiet.

Todd sat in the passenger seat staring out the window, looking deflated, withered. The shadow was more present than ever, clogging up the air until it was practically choking them.

Dirk felt compelled to say something.

"You're such a good brother, you know."

Todd tensed, made a pained sound. "No. I'm a shitty brother. I'm a shitty person."

"What? No. You're… how can you say that? You support her, you support your parents, and you give them so much."

"Not enough."

"People always say that about themselves. But I can't possibly see how…"

"I never had it."

His voice was almost swallowed up by the sounds of traffic.

"W-what?"

Todd slowly turned to look at him, stony faced. "I never had the disease. I never had pararibulitis."

Dirk blinked, trying to jump-start his thoughts. "I don't understand…"

"I  _lied_ , Dirk. I lied to my parents, I lied to Amanda, I lied to everyone I knew."

Dirk's very world tilted, growing off-kilter.

Todd is  _not_  very genuine. Not as honest as the day is long.

 

Todd is a liar.

 

"I needed, well, wanted money." Todd went on. "There was a family disease, our aunt had it, so I… I just …" He looked away, shame coloring his neck with red.

"Then, why not just, get a job, or…?"

"I don't know. I don't even know that person anymore. I don't even remember the first time I lied."

His world shifted some more. Off, but not breaking entirely. Then several pieces fell into place.

"So, when Amanda got it for real…"

"I told everyone I was cured." He gave a humorless laugh. "'Course, it was too late by then."

The car once again dipped into silence.

Now, the shadow had a name. Had a face. Is was Guilt. It was Deception.

"So," Todd interrupted his thoughts. "That's who you're working for. I am and always have been a total asshole."

Dirk just looked out the windshield, ruminating. Then he said the first thing that came to mind. "You need to tell her."

Todd spun in his seat, looking dumbfounded.

Looking terrified.

" _Tell_  her? Dirk, I can't just…it's not that easy…"

Dirk looked him in the eye. "You told  _me_ , didn't you?"

Todd made a frustrated gesture. "It's not the same! This is…"

Dirk let the subject drop. But he knew Todd was still thinking about it. As soon as they got back to his flat he got his guitar back out of its case and started plucking at the strings.

Dirk knew Patrick was going to call any minute, to try and reschedule the recording again. But the chances weren't great. Lux Dujour's patience ran no deeper than a rain puddle, and even a heartrending excuse like this probably wouldn't budge him.

* * *

 

"I'm gonna' tell her."

This was the first thing Todd said to him when he came the following morning, looking determined, like a soldier about to head into the fray.

"I'm glad to hear that."

He didn't ask when. He didn't want Todd to be under more stress than he was already.

A day went by. Then another, then a week... 

* * *

 

Ten days after Amanda was discharged, Dirk got a text at nine p.m.

_I'm telling her tomorrow._

He wished his boss-friend luck. And knew he wasn't going to get much sleep that night. 

* * *

 

He knew he wouldn't be needed the next day, so spent it doing assorted things, like cleaning, shopping for groceries, panicking…

He was startled when Farah sent him a text practically twenty four hours after Todd's.

_I'm driving Todd home. Meet me at his apartment ASAP._

Driving him home? Had something happened to his car? Had Amanda gotten so angry she decided to sic the Rowdies on it?

Only one way to find out. 

* * *

 

Just minutes after Dirk arrived, she knocked on the door. He opened it to see Todd and Farah in the hall, apparently leaning on each other.

Closer inspection showed that Todd was the one doing all the leaning, his head slumped to his chest while Farah's face was set in a patented look of disappointment and worry.

"What happened to him? Is he alright?"

"Physically, he's good. Though he'll probably wish he was dead in the morning. Give me a hand."

Dirk reached for the other arm, just as Todd raised his head and fixed him with an unfocused stare. At that moment Dirk finally smelled the liquor on his breath.

"Good God, you're absolutely sozzled! How much has he had?"

"I have no idea. Probably don't want to."

Todd finally spoke up, with some effort. "I'm na… quit talking like… like I'm not…in the room."

The two of them half carried and half dragged him to the living room sofa, laying him carefully.

"Did he tell you what happened?"

Farah shot him a confused look. "Um… Amanda hates his guts now, apparently?"

His worst fears had come to past. "Oh bloody hell…"

"Not 'apparently'," Todd slurred from the couch. "She  _does_  hate me…sa' fact. Says so herself."

Farah set her hands on her hips. "Do you have any idea what this is about Dirk?"

"Well, yes, but I don't think I'm the one who should be telling you."

This satisfied her for the time being. "Okay, just stay with him. Keep him hydrated. Think you can do that?"

"Certainly."

After she'd left, Dirk grabbed a glass of water. The other man accepted it with a trembling hand. He didn't speak to Dirk, or make eye contact.

"What happened?" Dirk asked carefully, putting the glass on the coffee table.

Todd didn't respond for a stretch, Dirk began to wonder if he'd even heard. Then Todd took a deep, unsteady breath.

"She says, it's like she… doesn't even know me. She's basically disowned me."

He said this in a faded, resigned tone. As if all the tears and shouting had already been done with. And Dirk feels  _terrible_.

"I'm so, so sorry." Was all he can think to say. And meant it with every fiber of his being.

"'Sorry' won't get her back." Todd didn't sound angry, more like bereft.

Dirk searched his brain for the proper response. Something profound, that might, just might, give Todd enough encouragement to last until tomorrow morning. But he could find nothing.

Todd started up again, as if suddenly remembering. "She won't accept my money anymore."

"What?"

"She… doesn't want… how's she going to pay?" Todd slowly grew more worked up, and less coherent. "She doesn't have… she's unemployed… can't work… oh God…!"

"I don't know the answers, but maybe you should save these concerns for tomorrow." He took Todd's arm, only to have it yanked away as its owner gave him a challenging glare.

"Who made  _you_  my Zen master?"

Startled, Dirk could only stutter, "W… I… no one, I'm sorry I just thought…"

Todd raised a hand to silence him, shaking his head as if in disappointment. "Y'know what? Just… stop talking. Think you can… stop that?"

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to help."

Todd turned away, bit out, "Well, you  _didn't_."

What just happened? How did they get to this?

The best thing he could do for now was give Todd time to think. Dirk rose to his feet, slowly making his way to the door before turning one last time. "Are you sure you'll be alright? You won't need anything?"

Todd chuffed. "I'll be fine. God… stop… you're not my nanny, or…" he trailed off.

This was getting to be ridiculous. "No Todd," He said firmly. "I'm not your nanny. I am, however, your friend, and last time I checked, friends looked out for each other."

Todd looked over the back of the sofa, his face holding bemusement and thinly veiled distain.

"My… Who said we were…?"

Even left unfinished, the sentence hits Dirk in the chest like a blow, knocking the air out of him.

"But, I just thought…"

Todd narrowed his eyes, as if Dirk had said the most stupid thing he'd heard all day. "Y'think a lot of stuff, Dirk. Most of it doesn't… amount to shit."

He'd plunged in the knife, and now started twisting.

Dirk could hardly breathe for all it hurt.

Saying nothing more, Todd flopped back onto the cushions with a faint groan. Leaving the flat in oppressive silence.

Dirk lost all feeling in his legs, his arms, everywhere.

Save his shattering heart.

Willing his legs to move, he finally left. 

* * *

 

He spent the rest of the evening in his pyjamas, curled up with Berenice and a box of peanut-butter biscuits.

Most of the time, he wished he wasn't so much of a crybaby. But at the moment, he allowed himself to shed a few tears.

" _Who said we were…?"_

" _Y'think a lot of stuff Dirk. Most of it doesn't amount to shit."_

There weren't enough words in the English language to describe what those words did to him.

It didn't just hurt. It was far beyond that. Far beyond pain.

The closest Dirk could come up with was agony. It was bleeding, burning, searing agony.

How could he have been such an idiot? Assuming all was finally right in his world. That he finally had someone he could call a friend. Someone who accepted him as he was, warts and all.

In his mind, The List of Todd Things crumpled itself up, without his permission, began to burn, edges curling and blackening. 

* * *

 

But the next morning, the list was still there, damaged, but in one piece.

Todd was still Todd. Even if he hated Dirk, even if he was clearly far less than perfect, he was still the man who'd hired him eleven months ago. The same man who played to release his soul from its crushing guilt, the same man who loved and gave, the same man who was lonely, trapped in a prison of his own making.

The man Dirk had slowly fallen in love with.

He wished he could remember exactly when he started, against his will, getting pulled in by those beautiful eyes that so much ink had been spilled over, more than Todd's actual music had.

He wished he knew when it was that he started looking for more and more ways to make Todd smile, laugh, even if it was in disbelief.

He wished he could pinpoint when exactly the warmth that curled around his chest whenever he noted Todd's bitten nails started.

He didn't know any of this.

Only that it was. 

* * *

 

He didn't go back to work. Didn't contact Patrick, though Farah called to ask what was going on, and he'd been unable to give her a proper answer.

He waited for the pink slip to come in the mail. For some notice, some physical evidence of what he knew in himself to be true.

It never came. 

* * *

 

After five excruciating days of this, there was a knock at Dirk's door.

He looked in the peephole. Started, rubbed his eyes, then looked again.

No mistake about it.

He flung the door open with such force it nearly pulled from its hinges.

Standing in the hallway was his probably-ex-employer, arms hanging by his sides, eyes ringed with dark circles that made them more pronounced, as if he hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in ages.

He looked smaller and more vulnerable than Dirk could remember seeing him, even when he'd been drunk and hurting.

"Todd! What're you…?"

"We need to talk."

His stomach churned like the sea. This was it. This was his dismissal. For all his faults, Todd was too good to do this in a way that was distant and impersonal.

He found himself nodding. "Right." He gestured to the couch. "Will you please come in?"

They both sat. Todd keeping his eyes on the carpet, hands curled into fists on his knees. Dirk took the opportunity to study his profile. It would probably be the last time they'd meet in person.

He cleared his throat. "Listen…I'm not sure exactly why you're here. But I think I can…"

He barely started talking before words began to flow from Todd's mouth in a stream of regret.

" _God_ , Dirk. I know this isn't worth shit, but I… The things I said… I didn't mean them! I mean, I know that doesn't give me an excuse, I don't even know why I'm saying it… but I'm… God, I so fucking  _sorry_!"

Dirk just let his mouth hang slack as he continued.

"I was pissed… and scared, obviously, I don't even think I was really mad at you. I just… Amanda didn't want my support, and I was so fucking worried for her... all I could think about was that I'd lost her, and she…I don't even know what's gonna' happen to her…"

Dirk raised his hands as if approaching a skittish stray cat. "Todd…"

"No, please let me finish. I'm an idiot. I did something unforgivable, inexcusable, the very last thing I wanted to do." His voice started to wobble near the end. "And…I know it's too much to ask. You shouldn't forgive me…"

He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath.

"But…I want you… need you… back into my life."

Dirk's brain just stopped.

It couldn't process. He knew what he wanted to say. Wanted to scream  _"Yes! Of course I'll come back! It's all I've ever really wanted!"_

But his brain was disconnected from his mouth.

All he could do was move. Show.

So he did.

He wrapped his arms tight around Todd's middle and buried his face in his slender shoulder.

And stayed there. And cried. And  _cried._

Todd held onto him, shaking a little, probably crying too, but much less noisily.

When it was finally all out, they parted without completely separating. And Dirk was treated to a beautiful sight.

Todd's smile. Cautious, but hopeful

"So… am I forgiven?"

"Of course!" Dirk enthused, mouth finally working again. "This job has been the greatest thing that's happened to me in years. I love working for you."

Todd's smile softened into something more serious. He seemed to draw into himself slightly.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just…"

He paused, seemed to be having some debate with himself, eyes moving over Dirk's face, kept returning to his eyes, his mouth.

At that point Dirk noticed they still had their hands on each other's waists. The air prickled with static.

"Dirk?"

"Y-yes?" When had it gotten so warm in here?

Todd's hands moved to his shoulders. "I've been thinking. What if…?" There was something soft and delicate in his voice. "What if… I didn't want you to work for me?"

"But, why?"

"Because…" His hands slowly slid to Dirk's neck, moved up till they were almost cradling his jaw.

And Dirk couldn't look away, from his face, from those eyes doing what they'd always done and hooking him in. Holding something he'd never seen directed at himself.

And Todd slowly, very slowly, began to lean forward.

Dirk's eyes pressed themselves shut. And suddenly, Todd's mouth was slanted over his, closing around his lower lip and pulling on it softly.

This must be what being struck by lightning felt like.

He couldn't breathe. His pulse pounded in the back of his throat. Then he kissed back, feeling calloused thumbs smoothing tenderly against his cheeks, the scratch of stubble surrounding a soft mouth, breath that smelled like toothpaste and coffee…

Then Todd drew away. It was a while before Dirk could command his eyes to open again, once again seeing Todd smile and practically aglow with happiness.

"You know what first got me?"

Dirk's mind was still trying to catch up with everything, so talking wasn't really an option at this point. "Uh…"

"You playing that Godawful K-pop music right after I hired you."

"Wha… oh.'

"You didn't care if I heard. You didn't give a damn what other people thought about it." The laughter in his face became tenderness. "You're the most  _real_  person I've ever met."

And, suddenly, something occurred to Dirk.

Todd had been writing a list of his own. A list of Dirk Things.

This thought nearly knocked him over. He wasn't the only one going through those excruciating moments of falling in love. Todd had been suffering right along with him. Because of him.

He didn't know whether to feel grateful or guilty.

"What was the second thing?"

Todd looked surprised by this question. Then he laughed. "Your lips."

"My  _lips?_ "

Todd's smirk was impish. "You use them  _way_  too much, but they're so…Christ, they're gorgeous."

Dirk felt them tingle. "You think so?"

Todd's thumb tapped against Dirk's lower lip. "All I could think about the day we met was how it would feel kissing you."

Dirk couldn't feel happier, more heels-over-arse if he tried.

Feeling bold, he smiled. "Well, now you know."

Todd gave him another quick kiss, "That I

do…" 

* * *

 

Being an assistant slash boyfriend to an up-and-coming alt-rock musician might not have been what Dirk thought he'd be doing with his life.

But he's overjoyed that it happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and I am completely incapable of omitting angst.  
>  Lot of Todd holding a crying Dirk in these.


	7. Hunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Operatic voice) Finally dooonnneeee!!!!  
> Sorry I took so long with this! Things have been busy. I hope it's not anticlimactic after the rather ambitious previous chappie.

"Think I'm gonna' go out for a bit." Todd announces out of the blue.

Dirk looks up from a rather interesting blog about Canadian geese. "Oh? Where to?"

Todd shrugs as he pulls on his jacket. "Just feel like getting out and driving around a little, maybe doing some errands."

Dirk almost feels his ears perk up. "Errands? Of what nature?"

Another shrug. "Y'know. Stuff."

"Oh." Dirk pretends to look back down at the article. The better to keep a straight face. "Well, if it's as important as all that, don't let me keep you."

To his credit, Todd's voice remains perfectly casual. "See you in a few."

Then he's out of the flat.

Just as well. Dirk's not certain how much longer he can hide his excitement.

He jumps up with a smile, then trots to the kitchen to fix himself some toast with peanut butter, humming a tune he heard on the radio earlier this week.

If Todd's gone through this much trouble trying to surprise him, it would be really bad manners to let slip that he's cottoned on to something.Not that Todd isn't good at keeping secrets, it's simply that Dirk got a hunch quite some time ago that his friend was planning something of this nature.

Although, he would like to think he's learned how to read his dearest compatriot by now. Certainly, the secretive smirks should be a giveaway.

Dirk returns to his seat on the couch with his toast and a glass of milk. No need to putter around with the internet blog anymore, he'll be entertaining himself enough just trying to guess what's in store. He's too excited to focus anyway.

Could Todd be planning a party?

Probably not. It's not Dirk's birthday, and won't be for some time now, nor is it the anniversary of their meeting (a date in the calendar he'll not forget as long as he lives), neither is it the anniversary of the day they opened the office.

He can't think of any reason for a party to be centered on him at this time.

Then again, what better way to surprise someone than throw them a party when they least expect to have one?

No, that doesn't seem to be the case. If it were, Amanda and Farah would doubtlessly be involved, and he's under the impression that Todd's working solo on this one.

So not a party then. What else? The brass plaque he's been wanting for the agency office? That'd be horrendously expensive, so for Todd's sake he's hoping not. A wrist watch? Still rather expensive, and he hardly ever uses one.

Goodness! This was a brain teaser if ever there was one!

Todd really is such a good friend, he reflects. Dirk can't think of the what, or even the why. It would seem Todd's doing this 'just because'.

Intriguing. No one before Todd has ever done anything for him just because. His whole life, it's always been something for something else. Tit for tat. You scratch my back, I  _might_  scratch yours.

His friend, perhaps unintentionally, has decided to break the cycle.

 

Todd is such a great friend.

 

_He loves you._

 

No. Nope. None of that.

Dirk groans to himself.

Lately, his brain's been convincing him that the pulls in the back of his mind is the universe saying that Todd...

 

Utter nonsense, of course. That would fall under the category of helping Dirk. And, if there's one thing he's certain of, his hunches don't help him.

It helps missing family pets, it helps families who've lost a loved one to bizarre and scientifically impossible accidents, and it helps people kidnapped by soul-swapping cults.

But it never, ever, helps Dirk.

These so-called-hunches about Todd's feelings regarding him are clearly nothing more than… well… might as well say it… wishful thinking.

And very strong wishful thinking at that.

Dirk does wish, far more than he's comfortable admitting, that Todd saw him as more than a best friend slash employer slash colleague (he's a little unclear as to what title he's currently giving their working relationship).

He wishes he knew when it happened. It just seemed that one day, out of nowhere, his romantic attraction towards the grumpy ex-bellhop went from maybe a level one to one hundred. It had probably been building for quite some time, but Dirk had remained completely, happily oblivious until it struck him right between the eyes. Now he can't so much as look at him without feeling his heart expand enough to break ribs.

It's either the greatest or worst thing to ever happen to him. It usually depends on what kind of day they're having.

No. Best not think of it right now. It's ruining his happy mood.

Todd's his friend. Todd cares about him. 

 

That's really all he needs. 

* * *

 

He's gone for at least three hours, probably more. Dirk has never claimed to be the extremely patient type, and one can only listen to Jump5 for so long before they find themselves practically climbing up the walls with anticipation.

Just as the sun starts to dip below the western horizon, and Dirk's about ready to drop some subtle hints in the form of texts enquiring whether or not Todd's gotten into an accident of some kind, when he hears the welcome sound of converse-clad feet in the hall outside.

Fighting the impulse to do an excited jig, he schools his features into a casual, disinterested expression, grabbing the nearest book he can find and opening it at the middle. It just wouldn't do to let slip that he suspects something, not after Todd's gone through all the trouble of keeping it under wraps.

"Hey." Todd greets from the opening door,

"Hello." Dirk says without removing his eyes from the book. "Have a successful outing?"

"Very successful." After placing his keys on the kitchen counter he wanders closer to Dirk. "Watcha' reading?"

"Oh just…" He looks for the title at the top of the page… only to find he's holding it upside-down.

"Erm… nothing worth mentioning." He shuts the book before Todd can notice. The shadow of an amused smile on his face when Dirk faces him suggests he already has.

He can't help but notice a conspicuous lack of mysterious packages or pocket bulges.

"Sooo… what did you do, exactly?"

Todd's smile dips a little. If Dirk didn't know any better, he'd say he looked nervous.

"I've got something for you." He says carefully. "A… gift, I guess. I've been planning it for a while."

Dirk widens his eyes gives a light gasp for extra effect.

"Really? A gift? For  _me_? Why that's wonderful! I had no  _idea_! I'm… gobsmacked! I'm…"

"If you lay it on any thicker you'll need a trowel."

Now he looks like he's almost about to laugh.

"Damn. Sorry. Well… I still haven't the faintest idea what it is."

Todd sits on the couch beside him, taking off his jacket, and twisting a little so his left side is facing dirk.

Then, to Dirk's everlasting surprise, he rolls up the short sleeve of his t-shirt, showing a patch of gauze taped on the back of his left shoulder.

"My shirt was irritating the skin.' He explains, as he pulls the gauze away.

Before he can ask any questions (he's beyond confusion by now), Dirk's eyes catch and become riveted to the small patch of skin.

The first thing his brain notes is that Todd's gotten himself a new tattoo. The second thing it notes is exactly what said tattoo is.

 

Etched permanently in black on his left shoulder is the Icarus symbol.

 

The air flows from Dirk's lungs in a gentle swoosh. The space between his shoulder blades tingles.

 

That very symbol he's come to dread, assigned to identify him and strip him of humanity, that he's shown Todd not very long ago.

But on Todd, the painfully familiar lines and angles have suddenly taken a new feel, new meaning.

But there's more. To the design, he's added a pair small feathered wings, one on each side of the diamond, spread out as if in flight, bringing to mind Dirk's codename-sake.

He can't think, can't form words.

 

He's speechless.

He's touched.

He's…

 

"Dirk?"

He shakes himself.

Todd's voice sounds a little unsure, his expression worried, already wondering if this was a good idea.

"You don't like it."

"No! That's not it! It's just… it's so… you've…" He stumbles over his words, trying to find the right combination before giving up and trying for a different angle.

"You'll want to put something on that." He gets up before the other man can react and heads to the kitchen cupboard where he keeps the aloe gel.

Todd's face becomes unsettlingly neutral when he returns. Dirk tries to assure him with a smile, wordlessly offering by uncapping the bottle.

Todd lets him dab the reddened area carefully. Dirk keeps his touch as light as possible, remembering how much his own markings had hurt once the anesthesia had worn off.

Todd tenses up slightly in the beginning, probably bracing himself for an amount of discomfort he's expecting to come, but soon relaxes.

"There." Dirk re-caps the bottle. "That should do it. It'll be raw for a day or so. Good thing you didn't go with something bigger."

As he puts the bottle on the table, a hand suddenly darts out to hold one of his own.

Dirk's first reaction is to look up. This proves to be too overwhelming.

Todd's face looks so bare and open. Trying to say without speaking, searching his face for his thoughts.

 

The apartment falls into tense, beseeching silence.

 

"Why did you do this?"

It takes him a moment to realize he's the one who's spoken.

Todd's eyes hold a million words, and even more emotions.

"Because, you're not alone anymore. The baggage you're carrying… I'm carrying it too, and you're carrying mine. And I…" he pauses as if the next part holds even more weight. He takes a breath and lets his eyes fall shut.

"I want everyone to know what you mean to me."

 

The words burrow under Dirk's skin. He holds them, picks them apart, looking for any possible meaning. The problem is, there can be so many.

"I'm not quite certain that I know myself." He admits softly.

 

_He loves you._

 

Todd looks down at their joined hands, as if contemplating the difference in size, textures, his own riddled with callouses while Dirk's are relatively soft by comparison.

 

_He loves you._

 

Stop it! Now's neither the time or the place…

"You mean the world to me."

Dirk almost gasps. His breath hitches somewhere between throat and chest.

His heart expands until it fills his ribcage.

Todd's heart is in his eyes.

He couldn't be clearer if he shouted it from the rooftops.

_He loves me._

He feels the overwhelming need to do or say… something.

_Kiss him._

_I don't know how._

"How to what?"

Dirk jumps. "Shit! Was that out loud?"

Todd smiles and relaxes a little bit, as if thing are feeling a little more normal. "Yeah, it was. What don't you know how to do?"

This change in demeanor is all Dirk needs.

Instead of answering in words, he takes a deep breath, lifts one hand to cup the back of Todd's head, and, before he can lose his nerve, leans forward and…

And promptly bumps his nose painfully against the other man's.

They both fly apart with matching exclamations of "Ow!" And mirror each other's posture of grabbing their noses to assess possible damage.

Todd mutters "The hell…?"

"Oh God, I'm so sorry! That was so stupid of me!" Dirk starts apologizing frantically before he's even aware of speaking. "The universe was telling me to kiss you, and I  _wanted_  to kiss you, but I've never done that before so I just took a leap and…"

He's interrupted by Todd's laughter.

It's not the mocking kind, but the fond, relieved kind.

Wait,  _relieved_?

He's smiling widely at Dirk, eyes shining with warmth and mirth.

Then his hands are cradling Dirk's face and he leans into his space.

 

_Ohhhh…_

 

Todd's mouth is soft and tastes a little like diet soda.

 

Dirk opens his mouth slightly. Mind beautifully blank.

Todd tilts his head slightly into a better angle, still holding Dirk's jaw like something fragile and precious.

It continues for some time. Heaven knows how long. Dirk couldn't care less.

Finally, Todd pulls away, carefully, and touches his forehead against Dirk's.

They just sit there.

"You did that for me." He hears himself whisper, with a thread of disbelief.

"Yes." Todd presses a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "For you." Then another on his chin, then on his lower lip. "Only you."

His throat constricts and eyes prickle. "It'll never come off."

"That's what I'm counting on."

Then they're kissing again. 

* * *

 

"When did you decide to get it?"

They're lying together on the couch, with Todd curled around him and his heart thrumming in his ear. His tie and jacket have been removed for better comfort.

"A few weeks ago. It just sorta' came from nowhere. It just seemed so right…"

"You'll have to be gentle with that area for the next few days"

"It's already been Gently handled."

Dirk actually lifts his head to stare slack-jawed at Todd's smirk.

"My God…" He laughs. "You of all people, making puns!"

Todd chuckles. "Don't get used to it."

Dirk settles back into his original position.

"Can I get used to  _this_?"

Todd's fingers begin to comb lightly through his hair. "Yeah, definitely." 

* * *

 

So, it seems his hunches can, on very rare occasion, help him.

They told him Todd loved him. Even when it wasn't necessary for a case or whatnot.

And when he greeted this message with grave doubt, it finally all but threw Todd in his lap.

He's certainly learned his lesson.

And never been so glad to be wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to thank you guys for reading and commenting! This has been a great trip!


End file.
